THE  SUPERIORITY  OF  THE  PRESENT  AGE: 


FRANKLIN    LITERARY    SOCIETY 


ME.    HORIEE'S    SCHOOL, 


OXFORD,    N.    C, 


FRANKS.  WILSON. 


RALEIGH: 
HOLDEN  AND  WILSON,  "STANDARD"  OFFICE. 

1859. 


+ «  0 


Franklin  Society  Hall,  May  2^869*^    ^    Q    g* 


To  Frank.  I.  Wilson  : 

Dear  Sir ;— At  a  meeting  of  the  Franklin  Literary  Society,  held  this  day,  the  fol- 
lowing resolution  was  unanimously  passed  : 

.Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  thefcSociety  be  tendered  to  Frank.  I.  Wilson,  Esq.,  for 
his  eloquent  and  highly  instructive  address,  delivered  before  the  Society,  at  our  last 
commencement,  and  that  he  be  requested  to  furnish  us  a  copy  for  publication. 

In  the  discharge  of  this  duty,  permit  us  to  express  the  gratification  we  experienced 
during  its  delivery,  and  to  add  our  personal  solicitations  to  that  of  the  Society  we 
represent. 

Very  truly  yours, 

AUGUSTUS  M.  MOORE,       ) 

JOHN  COWAN,  I  Committee. 

T.  H.  SATTERTHWAITE.     ) 


Oxford,  N.  C,  May  28, 1859. 
Gentlemen :— I  thank  you  for  your  complimentary  note  of  yesterday.    I  regard  the 
Address  delivered  by  me  as  your  property ;  and  without  consulting  personal  feelings, 
T  place  it  at  your  disposal. 

Very  truly  yours, 

FRANK.  I.  WILSON. 
Messrs.  Augustus  M.  Moore,    \ 

John  Cowan,  v  Committee. 

T.  H.  Satterthwaite,  \ 


&  'm  *  IK  •♦ 


ADDRESS. 


Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : 

$ 

By  invitation  of  the  Franklin  Literary  Society,  I  appear 
before  yon  to-day  to  address  yon ;  and  were  it  not  that  I  dis- 
like apologies,  I  would  offer  one  for  my  short-comings  on  the 
occasion.  Not  by  way  of  apology,  but  by  way  of  explana- 
tion, I  may  say  that  a  multiplicity  of  duties,  and  a  recent 
necessary  absence  from  home,  have  not  left  me  that  time  for 
preparation  I  desired.  But  when  boys  ask  a  favor  of  me,  I 
know  not  how  to  refuse  them.  I  oblige  men  when  conveni- 
ent— boys  when  possible — and  the  ladies  anyhow.  I  have 
been  a  boy  myself,  (and  I  beg  you  to  remember  it  was  not 
"  long  ago"  either;)  and  I  think  I  still  know  and  appreciate, 
what  too  many  men  forget,  the  thoughts,  feelings  and  sensi- 
bilities of  boyhood.  Had  men  invited  me  to  occupy  the 
position  I  do  here  to-day,  I  should  have  declined  ;  but  I  con- 
sider it  the  duty  of  all  to  add  what  they  can  to  the  pleasure 
and  instruction  of  youth ;  and  though  I  accepted  the  invita- 
tion of  the  Society  from  a  sense  of  duty,  I  thank  its  members 
none  the  less  for  their  kind  partiality,  and  will  discharge  my 
duty  according  to  the  best  of  my  abilities  and  opportunities, 
neither  seeking  praise  nor  shunning  criticism. 

I  have  selected,  as  the  subject  of  my  address,  The  Superi- 
ority of  the  Present  Age. 

In  the  short  space  I  shall  occupy  it  cannot  be  expected  that 
I  can  do  more  than  present  a  few  prominent  points. 

There  is  much  food  for  thought,  and  a  wide  field  for  reflec- 
tion in  contemplating  the  past  history  of  the  world  and  com- 
paring previous  ages  with  the  present  one  ;  and  I  contend 
that  no  past  period  has  been  so  interesting,  so  freighted  with 
important  consequences,  and  possessed  so  many  advantages, 
as  the  present. 


In  the  progress  of  refinement  and  enlightenment,  and  in 
the  advance  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  there  seems  always  to 
have  been  some  maximum  point  beyond  which  mankind 
could  not  go— some  elevation  from  which  no  step  for  a  higher 
ascent  could  be  found.  !N"or  was  the  platform  of  this  eleva- 
tion broad  enough  to  furnish  a  resting  place  ;  but  whenever 
reached,  the  course  thence  was  downward  with  an  ever-in- 
creasing velocity.  Men  of  the  present  age  seem  to  have 
discovered  some  means  of  ascent  before  unknown,  and  to 
have  risen  far  higher  than  the  men  of  any  past  period. 

It  is  true  that  we  have  no  certain  accounts  of  the  extent 
to  which  the  arts  and  sciences  were  carried  among  ancient 
nations  that  made  great  pretensions  to  learning ;  but  the  very 
fact  that  they  were  not  carried  to  an  extent  sufficient  to  hand 
them  down  to  all  posterity,  is  proof  conclusive  of  the  inferi- 
ority of  the  past  when  compared  with  the  present.  Egypt, 
"renowned  for  ancient  lore,"  has  been  so  long  sunk  in  ignor- 
ance and  superstition,  that  "  dark  as  Egypt "  has  now  become 
a  common  saying  to  express  the  lowest  depths  of  these  con- 
ditions. We  do  not  even  know  what  this  "ancient  lore" 
was — its  nature  nor  its  tendency — for  which  this  country  was 
so  renowned.  Its  mummies,  embalmed  for  thousands  of 
years,  reveal  nothing  to  us,  for  "  dead  men  tell  no  tales."  Its 
pyramids  alone  remain,  as  subjects  for  speculation.  They 
stand  as  monuments,  not  only  of  its  architectural  skill,  but 
also  of  its  folly;  for  no  purpose  to  which  they  could  have 
been  applied  would  have  proved  an  equivalent  for  the  labor 
bestowed,  the  time  consumed,  and  the  expense  incurred  in 
their  erection. 

The  Romans  also,  who  boasted  of  their  wealth  and  intelli- 
gence, and  who  carried  the  terror  of  their  arms  and  spread 
their  conquests  over  nearly  all  the  then  known  world,  are 
now  considered,  and  rightly  too,  to  have  been  at  best  semi- 
barbarians,  sunk  low  in  the  depths  of  superstition.  Yet  they 
rose  to  a  height  probably  never  reached  before  —tottered  for 
a  moment  on  the  summit — and  fell,  gradually  at  first,  but 
like  the  descending  stone,  constantly  gathering  impetus  from 
their  fall,  they  at  length  came  down,  crushed  and  shattered. 


their  ruin  the  more  complete  from  the  towering  height  from 
which  they  fell. 

It  is  true  that  some  of  the  ancient  nations  made  what  was 
then  considered,  and  what  we  may  now  consider,  great  pro- 
gress in  civilization,  and  in  the  arts  and  sciences ;  but  super- 
stition, that  dark  and  withering  blight  upon  the  mind,  always 
swayed  them  as  the  wind  does  the  reed  ;  and  as  long  as  that 
blight  hangs  over  a  nation,  it  is  incapable  of  rising  to  any 
great  height  in  mental  improvement.  It  has  become  a  prac- 
tice among  moderns,  not  unfrequently  met  with  even  in  our 
legislative  halls,  to  appeal  to  Greece  or  Rome  whenever  they 
wish  to  furnish  a  model  of  a  statesman,  a  patriot,  a  warrior 
or  a  poet.  It  is  true  that  those  countries  produced  great  men 
in  all  these  capacities,  but  they  were  only  exceptions  to  the 
general  rule,  and  the  present  age  has  furnished  those  who  are 
far  greater.  Among ., the  ancients  there  occasionally  rose  a 
master  mind,  who  ruled  the  rabble — became  first  a  hero,  then 
a  god,  and  shone  the  brighter  from  the  darkness  that  sur- 
rounded him  ;  just  as  a  single  star,  were  all  the  others  obscur- 
ed by  clouds,  would  seem  to  shine  with  a  tenfold  lustre. 
Caesar  was  one  of  those  master  minds,  and  by  the  influence 
his  superior  mental  faculties  gave  him  over  those  of  inferior 
capacities,  he  could  generally  lead  his  troops  to  victory — 
victory  obtained,  as  were  all  victories  in  those  days,  by  mere 
brute  force.  Left  to  themselves  they  were  in  no  way  superior 
to  those  they  were  pleased  to  call  "  Barbarians."  I  need 
only  refer  to  the  battlefields  of  our  Revolutionary  struggle, 
to  those  of  the  war  of  1812,  and  of  the  recent  war  with 
Mexico,  to  produce  instances  of  bravery  and  of  generalship 
with  which  none  on  record  in  the  annals  of  ancient  nations 
will  bear  any  comparison.  And  yet  superficial  minds  are 
ringing  their  eternal  changes  on  the  high  positions  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  the  generalship  of  Caesar,  and  the  eloquence  of 
Cicero  and  Demosthenes.  I  would  not  pluck  a  leaf  from  the 
wreath  of  renown  that  encircles  the  brows  of  those  ancient 
men  ;  but  I  must  express  the  belief  that  they  dwindle  almost 
into  insignificance,,  when  compared  with  the  warriors  and 
orators  of  the  present  age.     We  may  well  place  Jackson, 


8 

Scott  and  Taylor  against  all  the  warriors,  and  Clay,  Calhoun 
and  Webster  against  all  the  orators  of  the  olden  time. 

I  have  said  there  seemed  to  be  a  maximum  in  intelligence 
and  refinement,  beyond  which  the  races  of  past  ages  could 
not  go.  There  seems  also  to  have  been  a  minimum  of  degra- 
dation lower  than  which  they  could  not  sink.  That  action 
and  reaction  are  equal,  and  in  opposite  directions,  is  a  philo- 
sophical proposition  clearly  demonstrable  ;  and  it  may  be 
appropriately  applied  to  the  human  race  in  its  past  history. 
Raised  to  its  maximum  height,  it  reacted  and  sunk  ;  sunk  to 
its  minimum  depth,  it  reacted  and  rose, — rose  in  proportion 
to  its  former  degradation,— sunk  in  proportion  to  its  former 
elevation. 

Asia,  once  the  seat  of  learning  and  the  most  important 
quarter  of  the  globe — -the  land  in  which  our  Saviour  chose  to 
appear  and  proclaim  his  divine  mission — the  land  of  miracles 
wrought  by  Omnipotence — the  land  whose  every  hill  was 
hallowed  with  the  presence  of  the  Deity — whose  mount  of 
Sinai  thundered  with  the  laws  of  God— whose  mount  of 
Olivet  was  pressed  by  the  knees  of  the  Son  of  God  as  he 
prayed  in  agony  to  his  Father ;  and  on  whose  hill  of  Calvary 
was  sealed,  with  the  sinless  blood  of  the  Godhead,  the  re- 
demption of  the  world,  the  land  that  was  made  the  theatre 
of  the  most  sublime,  the  most  terrible  and  the  most  pleasing 
events  of  the  world — is  now  sunk  in  the  most  abject  igno- 
rance, superstition  and  degradation.  Alas,  how  fallen  from 
its  high  estate  !  With  a  population  more  numerous  than  all 
the  rest  of  the  world,  she  bows  her  head  either  in  the  wor- 
ship of  idols  hewn  from  wood  and  stone,  or  of  a  base  impos- 
ter — tramples  upon  the  holy  sepulchre,  and  kneels  at  the 
shrine  of  Mecca.  America,  a  continent  unknown  in  the 
palmy  days  of  that  land,  and  but  a  short  time  since  covered , 
with  savages,  her  forests  unbroken,  her  rivers  rolling  their 
useless  waters  to  the  ocean,  and  all  her  mighty  resources 
undeveloped,  has,  in  a  few  years  risen  to  such  importance  as 
to  attract  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world,  and  to  rank  among 
the  greatest  powers  of  the  earth.  Affording  an  asylum  to 
the  oppressed  of  all  lands,  guaranteeing  freedom  of  religious 


9 

• 
sentiments,  and  insuring  happiness  to  her  people,  she  has 
drawn  to  her  the  sympathies  of  all  hearts,  save  those  who 
desire  to  tyrannize  over  their  fellow  men.  She  has  produced 
a  government  which  has  solved  the  long  disputed  problem, 
and  proved  that  men  can  govern  themselves,  without  the  aid 
of  hereditary  royalty,  so  frequently  degenerating  into  idiocy, — 
a  government  that  has  made  tyrants  tremble  on  their  thrones, 
fearing  that  their  subjects  would  follow  our-  example.  Nor 
have  those  fears  been  groundless.  Europe  has  been  con- 
vulsed again  and  again,  and  even  now  a  gathered  storm  is 
bursting  in  fury  upon  the  nations  of  the  old  world.  The 
time  has  been  that  despots  sprang  from  their  thrones  like 
startled  stags,  and  cowered  before  the  people  they  had  so 
long  oppressed.  But  as  yet,  it  has  only  been  a  change  of 
despots — not  deliverance  from  them.  I  believe  the  world 
will  yet  be  revolutionized.  The  great  Infinite  works  by 
means  that  finite  beings  cannot  always  comprehend ;  but  the 
spread  of  the  Christian  religion,  the  light  of  intelligence, 
and  the  example  of  our  great  republic,  must  yet  influence 
the  minds  of  men  to  desire,  and  nerve  their  arms  to  strike 
for,  Liberty. 

Among  the  advantages  of  the  present  age — advantages 
unknown  to  all  past  ages — are  the  uses  of  steam  and  electric- 
ity; and  the  honor  of  applying  thest  important  agents  to 
their  most  useful  purposes,  belongs  not  only  to  the  present 
age,  but  to  our  own  country.  It  has  been  conjectured  by 
some  that  the  people  of  future  ages  will  look  back  upon  us  as 
we  look  back  upon  those  that  are  past — as  inferiors.  It  may 
be  so ;  but  I  incline  to  the  belief  that  the  nineteenth  century 
will  be  regarded  as  the  period  in  which  the  greatest  discove- 
ries have  been  made,  rather  than  that  greater  ones  will  be 
made  during  any  subsequent  century.  When  matter  becomes 
so  entirely  under  the  control  of  mind,  and  is  so  thoroughly 
subdued  and  rendered  subservient  to  will,  as  those  two  great 
agents  now  are,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  make  any  very  im- 
portant improvements  in  their  application.  There  may  be 
other  mighty  agents  yet  unknown,  to  be  hereafter  discovered ; 
but  surely  none  can  be  found  that  will  more  effectually  anni* 


10 

• 

Jiifate  space  than  electricity  now  .does.  Distance  is  rendered 
no  obstacle  to  the  transmission  of  intelligence.  Raised  on 
u  its  thousand  piers/'  or  sunk  beneath  the  ocean's  waves? 
electricity  flashes  along  with  the  swiftness  of  thought,  doing 
the  bidding  of  man.  It  may  yet  pursue  its  course  through 
the  pathless  deep,  linking  together  the  old  world  and  the 
new.  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  make  success  a  test  of 
merit,  nor  do  I  despair  at  one,  two  or  three  failures.  Bruce 
saw  the  spider  make  seven  attempts  ere  he  cast  his  web  as 
he  desired,  and  from  that  took  courage,  persevered,  and 
achieved  the  liberties  of  his  country.  With  intelligent,  de- 
termined men,  every  failure  has  its  benefits.  Even  when 
unsuccessful  they  learn  something  that  leads  to  success. 
Nothing  is  at  once  made  perfect;  and  by  repeated  efforts, 
correcting  the  faults  of  former  attempts,  the  electric  wire 
may  yet  subserve  the  purposes  of  men  and  nations  through 
the  trackless  waste  of  ocean's  unknown  bed. 

By  the  power  of  steam  continents  are  rolled  together,  as  it 
were,  and  reduced  to  a  neighborhood.  A  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic  is  now  performed  almost  in  as  many  days  as  it  once 
required  months  ;  and  instead  of  being  considered  wearisome, 
is  regarded  merely  as  a  pleasure  excursion.  Less  than  half  a 
century  ago  there  was  not  one  mile — nay,  not  one  foot  of 
railroad  in  the  United  States.  Now  there  are  thousands  of 
miles,  and  thousands  are  being  annually  added.  A  journey 
that  once  occupied  days,  is  now  performed  in  as  many  hours, 
and  travel  that  was  then  fatiguing,  is  now  mere  recreation, 
lias  any  past  age  ever  enjoyed  such  advantages? 

Dr.  Franklin,  that  worthy  old  gentleman  from  whom  this 
society  derives  its  name,  once  expressed  the  wish  that  he 
could  revisit  the  earth  at  the  expiration  of  a  hundred  years 
from  the  time  of  his  death,  that  he  might  see  the  improve- 
ments made  in  that  time.  Less  than  a  hundred  years  have 
elapsed  since  he  went  down  to  the  grave,  at  a  ripe  old  age, 
full  of  honors,  leaving  his  name  emblazoned  forever  on  the 
rolls  of  fame,  and  living  forever  in  the  memory  of  man ;  but 
if  he  could  arise  now,  and  see  one  of  our  locomotives  thun- 
dering by,  belching  forth  its  fire  and  smoke,  drawing  in  its 


11 


train  a  long  line  of  cars,  and  hear  the  clatter  of  the  hundred 
wheels  upon  the  iron  rail,  as  they  rolled  on  at  the  speed  of 
thirty,  forty,  or  even  sixty  miles  an  hour ;  or  could  he  step 
into  a  telegraph  office  in  New  York  and  make  some  enquiry 
in  New  Orleans,  and  receive  from  that  far  southern  city  a 
reply,  dated,  perhaps,  a  few  moments  anterior  to  the  enquiry, 
and  then  be  told  that  it  was  done  by  means  of  that  electricity 
in  which  he  took  so  great  an  interest  while  living,  I  fear  the 
old  philosopher  would  lose  that  equanimity  and  dauntlessness 
that  so  much  distinguished  him  through  life,  and  flee, 
abashed,  back  to  the  cerements  he  had  burst. 

Another,  and  perhaps  the  greatest,  advantage  of  the  pres- 
ent age  over  all  past  ages,  is  liberty  of  conscience, — the 
' disenthrall m en t  of  the  mind.  Bigotry  no  longer  drags  its 
victims  to  the  stake,  and  superstition  no  longer  burns  old 
women  as  witches ;  as,  even  upon  this  continent,  the  Puritan 
fathers  did — those  men  who  are  held  up  to  us  in  the  charac- 
ter of  martyrs — as  fleeing  from  persecution  to  enjoy  in  the 
wilderness  their  religious  sentiments.  Orators  have  deified 
them,  and  poets  sung  their  heroism;  but  I  fear  they  were 
more  inclined  to  exercise  freedom  of  opinion  themselves  than 
to  allow  it  to  others — that  they  were  more  selfish  than  just — 
more  austere  than  pious,  and  more  delighted  to  damn  others 
than  to  attend  to  those  things  pertaining  to  their  own  salva- 
tion ;  and  I  also  fear  that  many  of  their  posterity  in  the  New 
England  States  are  worse  even  than  their  fathers,  as  they 
glory  in  robbing  their  southern  brethren  of  that  very  prop- 
erty introduced  by  their  ancestors,  and  seem  to  prefer  the 
company  of  negroes  down  oelow,  to  that  of  their  masters  up 
ahove. 

But  toleration  of  religious  principles  and  tenets  has  become 
almost  universal  among  the  civilized  nations  of  the  earth, 
and  every  one  is  allowed  to  worship  his  Maker,  and  to  regu- 
late his  actions,  so  far  as  they  transgress  no  laws  necessary 
for  the  well  being  of  society,  according  to  the  dictates  of  his 
own  conscience.  The  most  potent  reason  for  this  great  and 
desirable  change,  is  to  be  found  in  the  general  diffusion  of 
knowledge,  through  the  medium  of  printing.     By  books  and 


12 

newspapers  men  have  become  informed — Republican  princi- 
ples have  been  engendered— superstition  has  fled  before  the 
march  of  intelligence,  and  prejudices  and  persecutions  have 
died  beneath  the  light  of  knowledge.  A  free  press  will 
always  make  a  free  people.  Unbind  the  fetters  on  the  press 
in  the  Old  World,  and  the  last  crowned  head  will  soon  be 
laid  in  the  dust. 

Then  I  contend  that  in  statesmen,  in  warriors,  in  poets,  in 
the  general  diffusion  of  knowledge,  in  religious  and  civil 
liberty,  in  improvements,  in  progress  in  the  arts  and  sciences, 
in  all  that  conduces  to  the  full  development  of  the  more 
ennobling  faculties  of  the  mind,  in  all  that  tends  to  promote 
the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  our  race,  the  present  age  is 
far  in  advance  of  all  former  ages. , 

But  while  I  contend  for  the  superiority  of  the  present  over 
the  past,  I  am  not  blind  to  the  faults  of  the  present.  Many, 
ay,  most  of  the  errors  of  the  past,  have  been  unrecorded  and 
forgotten.  This  is  well.  Let  the  good  men  do  live  after 
them— let  their  faults  be  buried  with  them.  Let  their  good 
parts  shine  forth  as  an  example  for  imitation,  but  let  their 
failings  be  forgotten  beneath  the  ruins  under  which  they  lie. 
The  examples  of  good  are  more  potent  than  the  warnings  of 
evil.  No  one  ever  yet  reached  Heaven,  merely  from  the  fear 
of  hell. 

As  a  general  thing  we  see  only  the  bright  side  of  the  past. 
Hence  we  are  apt  to  conclude  that  the  men  of  former  times 
were  purer  and  more  virtuous  than  we.  We  are  daily  remind- 
ed of  the  stern  virtues  of  the  Romans,  and  of  Roman  firm- 
ness;  and  we  are  told  of  "the  earlier  and  purer  days"  of 
our  own  Republic.  This  is  all  illusory.  Human  nature  is  in 
all  climes  and  ages  the  same.  If  our  government  is  more 
corrupt  than  formerly,  it  is  only  because  it  is  more  extended, 
and  there  are  more  inducements  and  more  temptations  to 
corruption.  If  ancient  nations  seem  to  have  been  more  pure 
than  we,  it  is  only  because  their  corruptions  have  not  been 
brought  down  to  us.  In  the  past  we  see  but  little  except  the 
good :  in  the  present  we  see  the  good  and  evil  blended. 

But  why  talk  of  Roman   virtues  and   Roman  firmness  ? 


13 

i 

How  many  of  Rome's  proud  chieftains,  after  bearing  aloft 
the  eagle  of  the  Republic,  turned  their  arms  against  the 
bosom  of  their  own  country  ?  In  our  history  as  a  nation,  how 
many  such  have  we  had  ?  With  regret,  with  indignation, 
with  scorn  and  curses,  we  point  to  the  traitor,  Benedict 
Arnold  ;  but  it  is  our  glory  that  we  can  point  to  no  other. 
Tell  ns  of  your  patriots  of  the  olden  times — of  their  purity, 
their  firmness,  their  stern  sense  of  justice,  their  unyielding 
honesty,  their  unwavering  courage,  their  prudence,  their 
zeal,  their  devotion  to  their  country,  and  we  will  eclipse  them 
all  with  a  Washington  and  a  Jackson  !  Tell  us  of  the  Roman 
matrons  who  sent  forth  their  sons  to  battle,  with  the  injunc- 
tion to  return  victorious  or  on  their  shields,  and  we  will  point- 
to  our  mothers  of  the  Revolution  who  bade  their  husbands, 
sons,  brothers  and  lovers  meet  the  proud  invader!  In  no 
aspect  can  ancient  times  bear  a  comparison  with  the  present. 

How  meagre,  too,  are  the  accounts  we  have  of  the  old 
nations.  This  of  itself  shows  they  were  far  behind  us.  One 
newspaper  published  in  Rome  during  its  days  of  renown,  and 
preserved  until  the  present  time,  would  have  thrown  more 
light  upon  that  era  than  can  be  gathered  from  all  the  histori- 
ans, orators  and  poets  of  that  age. 

Many  nations  have  risen,  flourished  and  decayed.  Our 
own  Republic  may  share  the  fate  of  those  gone  before. 
Clouds  have  been  lowering  for  years  in  our  Northern  horizon, 
bearing  a  threatening  aspect.  The  last  home  of  liberty — the 
last  refuge  of  the  oppressed — the  last  hope  of  man,  must 
perish  with  our  federal  Constitution.  I  speak  not  of  the 
Union,  for  that  is  only  the  consequence  of  the  Constitution, 
and  must  stand  or  fall  with  it.  Let  us,  then,  guard  that 
Constitution — shield  it  from  all  violence — preserve  it  from 
every  infraction.  Let  us  resist,  at  all  hazards,  any  and  every 
attempt  to  violate  the  rights  guaranteed  to  us  by  it.  In  the 
language  of  Jackson,  "  Let  us  ask  nothing  that  is  not  right, 
and  submit  to  nothing  that  is  wrong."  Animated  by  this 
spirit  we  shall  have  nothing  to  fear ;  for  it  is  better  to  perish 
battling  for  the  right  than  to  live  in  dishonor.  I  trust  we 
have  not,  as  a  people,  yet  forfeited  the  protection  of  Heaven  ; 


14 

and  in  the  past  history  of  the  world,  Providence  has  raised 
up  men  for  the  emergencies  of  the  times.  JSTo  great  occasion 
has  ever  yet  called  for  a  man,  that  that  man  was  not  found'. 
Moses  was  chosen  to  deliver  the  people  of  Israel  from  bond- 
age— Cromwell  was  the  leveller  of  inordinate  pride  and 
arrogance — Napoleon,  the  man  of  destiny,  (and  destiny  means 
the  purposes  of  God,)  shook  the  corrupt  and  rotten  powers  of 
the  Old  World,  while  Washington  achieved  the  liberties  of 
the  'New.  Jackson  was  the  man  for  his  time,  and  while  I 
believe  the  present  times  demand  another  Jackson,  I  have  an 
abiding  confidence  that  he  will  be  found.  Another  St apoleon 
may  be  required  in  the  Old  World  to  finish  the  work  com- 
menced by  the  other ;  and  he  will  appear,  if,  indeed,  he  has 
not  already  appeared.  Many  of  our  renowned  men  have 
gone  down  to  the  grave,  and  men  say  despondingly,  "  We 
shall  never  look  upon  their  like  again."  I  have  no  such  fears. 
Let  the  occasion  requiring  another  Washington  arise,  and 
even  another  Washington  will  be  found  ;  and  if  another 
Washington  can  be  produced,  what  may  we  not  hope  and 
expect?  Until  that  Great  Being  who  has  heretofore  guided, 
governed  and  protected  us,  withdraws.  His  shielding  and  di- 
recting power,  we  need  not  fear  but  that  He  will  furnish  the 
instruments  for  accomplishing  his  designs ;  and  when  that 
Power  is  withdrawn  we  shall  deserve  the  fate  we  meet,  and 
the  world  the- darkness  that  will  shroud  it. 

But  I  have  said  that  While  I  contended  for  the  superiority 
of  the  present  age  over  all  past  ones,  I  was  not  blind  to  its 
faults.  While  an  age  of  progress  and  improvement,  it  is 
also  an  age  of  what,  in  our  expressive  language,  we  term 
humbuggery.  Why,  if  the  advertisements  of  our  patent 
medicine  men  contain  any  truth  in  them,  no  one  but  the 
veriest  fool  need  ever  suffer  pain,  disease  or  death.  They 
offer  us  cures — infallible  ones — for  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is 
heir  to,  and  guarantee  preventives  for  those  that  may  yet 
otherwise  afflict  us — and  all  for  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  !  As  a 
matter  of  economy,  if  not  of  choice,  it  is  better  to  live,  when 
a  universal  panacea  costs  only  twenty-five  cents,  and  a  burial 
would  cost  some  dollars. 


15 


And  how  foolish  in  us,  too,  to  pay  anything  for  our  dry 
.goods,  groceries,  &c.  Does  not  every  merchant  and  grocer 
advertise  his  goods,  wares,  &c,  "  cheaper  than  the  cheapest?" 
What  then  have  we  to  do  but  to  go  from  store  to  store  until 
we  get  onr  goods  for  nothing,  with  a  handsome  present 
thrown  in  to  compensate  us  for  our  trouble  ?  Let  the  credu- 
lous try  it,  and  never  more  be  troubled  by  a  "store  bill." 

And  our  lawyers,  too,  "  may  always  be  consulted  at  their 
offices,  when  not  professionally  absent;"  and  I  am  sorry  to 
say  that  many  of  them,  even  when  "  professionally  engaged," 
are  just  as  likely  to  be  found  at  one  bar  as  another.  Ask 
them  for  advice  and  they  never  understand  the  question 
until  you  enlighten  their  understandings  with  a  bank  bill ; 
and  then  they  pick  from  you  what  kind  of  advice  you  desire, 
and  give  it  to  you.  If  you  have  fallen  out  with  a  neighbor, 
you  are  advised  that  that  neighbor  is  a  great  rascal,  and 
assured  that  you  can  ct  make  him  smoke."  If  you  have 
beaten  some  fellow,  you  are  advised  that  you  were  perfectly 
justifiable  in  all  you, did,  and  that  you  didn't  give  him  "half 
what  he  deserved." 

Of  doctors,  pardon  me  for  being  silent.  It  is  a  grave.mb- 
ject.  I  have  already  suffered  at  their  hands,  and  if  I  should 
again  be  so  unfortunate  as  to  come  under  their  tender  mer- 
cies, I  would  rather  they  had  no  old  grudges  against  me. 

And  if  you  are  of  a  literary  turn  of  mind,  all  you  have  to 
do  to  gratify  your  taste,  and  at  the  same  time  make  a  fortune, 
is  to  patronize  the  northern  "Gift  Book"  institutions,  where 
you  are  sure  to  get  reading  matter  worth  double  your  money, 
and  a  present  worth  double  your  reading  matter.  Who  so 
incredulous  as  to  doubt  this,  and  who  so  foolish  as  not  to 
profit  by  it? 

Then  again,  as  model  republicans,  we  have  what  a  Yankee 
would  call  a  "a  mighty  hankering"  after  foreign  titles, 
fashions,  manners,  and  customs.  We  have  no  earls,  nor 
lords,  nor  barons;  but  we  have  more  generals,  colonels,  ma- 
jors and  captains  than  were  ever  killed  in  all  our  wars, — and 
the  most  of  whom  are  in  no  danger  of  being  killed  in  future 
wars,  or  who,  at  least,  will  take  good  care  not  to  so  endanger 


16 

their  lives.  And  as  a  last  resort,  when  nothing  better  can  be 
found,  we  affix  E-s-q.,  to  every  body's  name. 

Our  fashions,  too,  must  come  from  abroad,  and  whether 
comfortable  or  uncomfortable — whether  cheap  or  expensive — 
we  must  adopt  them.  What  though  our  pantaloons  are 
made  so  tight  that  the  blood  cannot  circulate  under  them, 
and  the  ladies'  skirts  are  so  expanded  that  we  can  only  ad- 
mire their  charms  upon  the  principle  that  "  Distance  lends 
enchantment  to  the  view," — it  is  all  right,  because  it  is  "the 
fashion." 

The  u  fool-killer "  is  generally  considered  an  imaginary 
being,  but  such  is  not  the  fact.  Thin  shoes  kill  a  great  many 
fools.  I  never  see  a  pair  of  them  on  a  lady's  feet  of  a  cold, 
wet  day,  but  I  say  to  myself,  "  There  is  a  pair  of  fool -killers." 
Thin  clothing  in  cold  weather,  when  worn  to  balls  and  parties 
for  effect,  usually  have  their  effect,  and  not  unfrequently  kill 
a  fool. 

Were  not  ours  a  Christian  land,  I  would  say  we  had  as 
many  idolaters  at  the  shrine  of  the  goddess  of  Fashion,  as 
ever  knelt  in  one  generation  to  Buddah,  and  that  as  many 
victims  are  sacrificed  at  that  shrine  as  were  ever  crushed  be- 
neath the  iron  wheels  ol  the  car  of  Juggernaut.  But  the 
laws  of  fashion  are  inexorable,  and  he  or  she  who  does  not 
conform  to  them  is  odd  and  eccentric,  and  had  just  as  well 
be  a  heathen — and  better  too,  for  then  missionary  societies 
will  clothe  and  feed  them. 

And  our  young  ladies — for  girls  are  obsolete  in  these  days — • 
cannot  be  content  with  the  good  old  scriptural  and  English 
names  given  them  by  their  parents,  but  must  Frenchify  and 
foreignize  them  with  the  musical  termination,  the  soft  and 
melodious  ending  of  ie.  We  have  no  such  name  as  Frances — 
it  is  Fann^ ;  no  Elizabeth — it  is  Bett^ ;  no  Mary — it  is  Mol- 
\ie  or  Polfe  I  trust  this  foreign  mania  will  not  attack  our 
young  men,  for  instead  of  the  good  old  name  of  Frank,  we 
shall  have  Franks,  and  instead  of  Jacob,  Jacobs,  and  instead 
of  Peter,  Peter^,  &c.  But  while  we  deplore  this  foreigniz- 
ing  of  female  names,  let  us  be  thankful  to  the  fashion-makers 
that  they  no  longer  bury  beauty's  face  three  feet  deep  in 


17 

leghorn  ;  but  that  by  attaching  a  small  bunch  of  straw,  oik  a 
diminutive  quantity  of  silk,  with  as  many  ribbons  as  circum- 
stances will  allow,  to  the  back  of  the  head,  they  leave  all  the 
features  revealed  to  our  admiring  gaze.  This  is  one  oasis  in 
the  desert  of  fashion,  and  let  us  be  duly  thankful, — even  as 
the  weary  traveler  through  the  scorching  sands  of  Sahara,  is 
rejoiced  to  find  umbrageous  boughs  above  him,  while  gushing 
waters  lave  his  scorched  and  blistered  feet ! 

But  enough  of  pleasantry.  These  or  similar  follies  have 
doubtless  marked  all  ages.  As  a  general  thing  those  of  the 
past  have  not  come  down  to  the  present;  let  us  hope  that 
those  of  the  present  will  not  go  down  to  the  future. 

A  few  words  to  the  members  of  the  Franklin  Society,  and 
I  will  close.  You  are  boys  now — I  prefer  to  call  you  "  boys " 
instead  of  "young  gentlemen,"  for  the  term  "boy"  is  asso- 
ciated in  my  mind  with  all  that  is  generous,  honest  and 
harmlessly  mischievous  ;  while  that  of  "  young  gentleman  " 
is  associated  with  cigars,  high-heeled  boots,  high-top  hats, 
and  foolery  in  general.  You  are  verging  on  manhood,  and 
when  you  cease  to  be  boys,  he  men.  You  have  no  doubt 
heard  the  term  "masterly  inactivity."  Let  me  warn  you 
against  it.  Does  not  the  young  blood  leaping,  thrilling 
through  your  veins  give  the  lie  to  any  such  term  ?  If  there 
be  any  such  thing,  it  is  only  an  exception,  and  a  rare  one,  to 
the  general  rule.  He  who  makes  it  a  rule  of  conduct  will 
never  master  anything,  but  every  thing  will  master  him.  It 
is  contrary  to  nature,  for  life,  vigor  and  activity  pervade  all 
her  realms.  Every  drop  of  water  and  every  grain  of  sand— 
every  leaf  and  every  flower  teems  with  life.  The  earth 
itself  is  one  huge  mass  of  life.  The  ocean  never  stagnates, 
and  action  only  prevents  it.  In  the  boundless  system  of 
unnumbered  Worlds  there  is  no  such  thing  as  rest.  All  is  mo- 
tion— action.  Inactivity  is  death, — -aye,  it  is  annihilation  ! 
You  were  not  placed  here  to  be  drones— nothing  was  made 
for  nothing.  You  have  duties  to  perform,  and  a  destiny  to 
fulfil.  Action >  and  action  only,  can  enable  you  to  discharge 
the  duties  you  owe  to  yourselves,  to  society,  to  your  country 
and  your  God.  Nature  has  implanted  in  you  an  aversion  to 
2 


18 

inactivity ;  and  if  inactive,  you  violate  a  law  of  nature  ;  and 
nature's  laws,  unlike  those  of  men,  can  never  be  violated 
with  impunity.  Those  now  upon  the  stage  of  action  must 
soon  pass  away,  and  the  places  that  know  them  now,  will 
know  them  no  more  forever.  You  must  take  their  places ; 
and  1  charge  you  to  be  circumspect,  to  look  well  to  the  course 
you  pursue,  and  to  hand  down  to  the  generation  after  you 
the  priceless  inheritance  bequeathed  to  you. 

"  The  greatest  glory  of  a  free-born  people, 
Is  to  transmit  that  freedom  to  their  children." 

The  world  is  fair  to  you — all  is  life  and  hope — sunshine  and 
flowers.  You  look  forth  upon  the  buds  and  blossoms,  but 
you  see  not  the  decay  that  awaits  them.  You  behold  the 
spring-time,  but  not  the  autumn ;  and  it  is  well.  Soon  you 
will  awake  to  the  stern  realities  of  life,  and  when  you  do, 
meet  them  with  a  firm  heart  and  a  determined  purpose. 

"  The  wise  and  active  conquer  difficulties, 
By  daring  to  attempt  them." 

Hope  and  persevere,  and  difficulties  will  melt  before  you  like 
frost-work  in  the  sun.  Think  for  yourselves — think  well  and 
act  boldly,  and  regard  not  the  ridiculous  conventionalities  of 
what  is  miscalled  "  society."  Be  independent,  and  whether 
men  agree  or  disagree  with  you,  they  will  respect  you.  Let 
your  course  through  life,  whether  in  a  private  or  a  public 
station,  be  marked  by  a  fearless  rectitude  of  conduct.  Then 
those  that  are  your  friends  will  be  worthy  of  your  confidence, 
and  your  enemies  will  be  those  whose  enmity  is  preferable 
to  their  friendship.  You  may,  you  doubtless  will,  commit 
errors ;  but  keep  the  conscience  clear,  and  all  will  be  well 
with  you.  Conscience  is  an  attribute  of  the  Deity  implanted 
in  every  breast  to  check  the  natural  depravity  of  the  heart. 
Obey  its  admonitions,  and  when  you  go  astray  you  will  soon 
perceive  your  error,  and  have  the  moral  courage  to  renounce 
it. 

An  old  poet  has  said: 


19 


"  Something  of  youth  I  in  old  age  approve, 
But  more  the  marks  of  age  in  youth  I  love." 

To  the  latter  line  of  this  couplet  I  dissent.  I,  too,  like  to 
see  something  of  youth  in  old  age  ;  but  nothing  is  more  mel- 
ancholy than  old  age  in  youth.  I  feel  sad  when  I  see  what 
is  termed  "  an  old  head  upon  young  shoulders."  I  like  the 
careless,  romping,  bounding  spirit  of  youth — the  wild  burst 
of  mirth  and  joyous  glee — the  noise,  ay,  even  the  mischief 
of  a  boyish  nature ;  but  mark  you,  there  is  a  wide  difference 
between  mischief  and  meanness — between  carelessness  and 
cruelty.  I  like  to  see  manhood  and  old  age  retaining  the 
spirit  and  freshness  of  youth,  but  youth  in  the  garb  of  man- 
hood is  ridiculous,  and  of  old  age,  saddening.  The  latter 
indicates  a  premature  acquaintance  with  grief,  an  unhappy 
life,  and  an  early  grave. 

Remember  that  the  world  is  neither  wholly  good,  nor 
wholly  evil.  The  good  and  the  bad  mingle  together,  as  do 
joy  and  grief,  sunshine  and  cloud.  Life  is  a  chequered  scene, 
but  the  light  of  Hope  ever  illumines  our  way.  None  are  so 
pure  as  to  be  without  fault — none  so  depraved  as  to  be  desti- 
tute of  all  good. 

In  the  deep,  mysterious  working 

'Of  the  most  abandoned  spirit, 
Is  there  naught  of  honor  lurking — 

Naught  of  good  deserving  merit  ? 

In  the  holiest  meditations 

Of  the  calmest,  purest  bosom, 
Come  not  evil  instigations, 

Like  a  blight  upon  a  blossom  ? 

As  none  from  sin  can  claim  exemption, 

No  matter  what  his  elevation, 
So  none  need  yield  hope  of  redemption, 

No  matter  what  his  degradation. 

Both  good  and  evil  ever  mingle 

•In  each  cup  of  pain  or  pleasure — 
The  soul  can  take  in  neither  single, 

Even  in  the  smallest  measure. 


20 

No  grief  can  all  the  mind  engage, 
We  have  no  pleasure  unalloyed—^ 

Our  darkest  hour  has  some  presage 
Of  future  bliss  to  be  enjoyed. 

Bright  Hope  forever  smiling  o'er  us 
Glimpses  gives  of  Heaven's  portal ; 

But  doubts  and  fears  still  stalk  before  us, 
To  remind  us  we  are  mortal. 

"What  is  it  that  bids  us  in  this  bleak  world  remain, 
Where  there's  so  much  of  strife  and  contention  and  pain, 
Disappointment,  vexation,  and  secret  repining  ? — 
'Tis  the  tendrils  of  Hope  round  the  future  entwining' 

Here  riches  and  honors  and  gay  equipage 
Flee  away  like  the  glad  bird  let  loose  from  its  cage ; — 
But  onward!  still  onward!  life's  billows  we're  braving, 
For  the  banner  of  Hope  in  the  distance  is  waving. 

How  eagerly  here  we  for  pleasures  pursue  ! 
How  oft  are  we  foiled,  yet  the  chase  still  renew  ! 
0,  why  are  we  still  upon  happiness  reck'ning  ? — ; 
'Tis  Hope  goes  before,  and  we  follow  her  beck'ning. 

Oft  friendship's  deceitful  and  love  but  a  name ; 
Our  joys  melt  away  like  the  wax  in  the  flame ; 
Still  onward  we  go,  after  others  pursuing, 
For  the  bright  star  of  Hope  is  forever  renewing. 

Thick  gather  around  us  the  clouds  of  despair, 
And  heavily  on  us  weigh  trouble  and  care ; 
But  still  unto  life  we  with  fondness  are  clinging. 
For  the  fountain  of  Hope  in  our  bosoms  is  springing. 


The  things  that  we  cherish  fade  quickly  away ; 
New  sources  of  trouble  we  meet  with  each  day — 
Each  hour  to  fresh  disappointment  we're  marching- 
But  the  rainbow  of  Hope  is  above  us  still  arching. 


